


gone

by castellowrites



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pining, mention of amputation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castellowrites/pseuds/castellowrites
Summary: Space is a constant; people aren’t.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for [ theyullenator](http://www.theyullenator.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, who said they wanted "Eruris in gay space" :)

 

Levi looks out into the infinite space spread out like an ominous dark veil before them – there are days when the entire vastness holds nothing but endless night and nameless stars, where the drawn out nothingness almost gives off the illusion that there isn’t an ongoing war, that every day spent out in space doesn’t hold any assurance of tomorrow.

Erwin always said there is nothing not hidden in space. That man is always looking at something no one else seems to see. Levi remembers that unwavering determination reflected in those azure eyes, that deeply concentrated gaze searching for things that don’t want to be sought after.

He remembers seeing too much darkness, too many bright lights and colors bursting in the calm ocean in Erwin’s eyes.

It’s been seventy-two hours since he’d last seen those eyes.

Space is a constant; people aren’t – a fact so painfully apparent with the seemingly easy replacement of the person occupying the Commander’s seat.

 _I’m not at all important – someone will always be able to fill the Commander’s chair when I’m gone._ – was what Erwin had said. The words echo loudly from the deep recesses of Levi’s mind, coupled with memories of large warm hands and soft kisses and the unspoken promise to _never_ make any promises.

It’s not that Hanji isn’t the most eligible person to succeed the position, it’s not that Levi has more complaints than praise about them either – it’s just that for some reason, a lot of things just fail to make sense, a lot of things just don’t feel right anymore with Erwin Smith _not_ _there_.

Years spent risking his life out in the battlefront without ever seeing the motherland should have desensitized him from death, from the pain of losing people, from the feeling of being _broken_.

Space doesn’t disappear; _people_ do.

Somewhere in that infinite abyss of countless stars and undiscovered galaxies is the Commander of the Galactic Battle Cruiser Galahad, Erwin Smith.

 _Hanji, I’m leaving Galahad to you_ – were Erwin’s last words through the intercom before beaming the entire bulk of the battleship along with the individual Fighter Wings out of the nebula, before sacrificing himself and his Wing to buy everyone time to escape the ambush.

No word of goodbye, no word of a promise to come back because no one ever does – Levi vaguely remembers screaming into the intercom, Erwin’s face suddenly flashing on his screen through a private line, the gentle look on his face and his mouth moving to speak right before there’s a big blast – then there was nothing but light and a wormhole and not long after, stillness.

An emptiness so heavy and loud it threatens to tear Levi from the inside out.

“Levi?”

It’s Hanji’s voice that wakes him up from his reverie. He’s mildly surprised that he even managed to fall into a dreamlike state, what with all the tension within the battleship.

“Oh, Han— I mean, Commander,” Levi says as he gives his salute. Being polite isn’t really in his genetic code, but considering how some people are noticeably shaken with the attack and Erwin’s sacrifice, it seemed appropriate to restore order by ensuring that the seat of command isn’t compromised in any way – that someone will definitely get these people home. After all, it is human nature to believe and hang onto something they deem is higher than themselves. For everyone aboard this battleship, it’s the highest seat of authority.

“I’m only interim Commander, and you know that,” Hanji replies, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

Acknowledging Hanji as the leader does not equate to accepting that Erwin is dead.

Levi and most others have reason to believe he might still be alive, imprisoned maybe, but alive – after all, he _is_ the head of Paradise Colony’s strongest battleship, a man worth bargaining for the entrance to maybe even the outermost Fort Maria, a formidable leader who is infamous for devising complex strategies for defeating entire enemy space armadas – enough reason to hold him captive, or for the enemies to off him, to finally rid themselves of the thorn in their side.

That is, if he is in enemy hands. That is, if he _had_ escaped the blast.

It seems that Hanji shares his current thoughts. “That guy’s out there, you know? Erwin may sometimes be arguably suicidal, but he’s the type death loves to flirt with but would never quite fully claim.”

Surprisingly, the edges of Levi’s lips curl up at that remark. When he speaks, his voice sounds gruff, as if he hasn’t used it in a while. “You trying to cheer me up, four eyes?”

“Nanaba was going to throw a fit if I didn’t leave the command center and talk to you,” Hanji says, leaning on the rails beside him.

Erwin truly is a lucky bastard – too many daring assaults and escapes that felt like going through the hole of a needle. Through some stroke of luck and a shitload of skill, they still get to return to meet each other in his personal quarters after every skirmish.

Their routinely intimate meetings are not in any ways a romance brought about by the long drawn isolation in space – more accurately, Levi would describe their relationship, no, their _arrangement_ , as some sort of escape, a distraction – a way to feel human in this inhumane war.

It’s not love; it’s necessity, a need.

Pain seeping from his battle scars makes him feel alive; bruises and bite marks imprinted on his skin by Erwin make him feel _real_.

What was Erwin about to say when he opened that private line directing him to Levi just right before the final second? What did that expression mean – that look he would suddenly have on his face when he’s left himself unguarded during quiet moments in the aftermath of passion?

Will Levi ever know?

Will Erwin ever tell him?

“You’re allowed to be sad, you know,” Hanji says solemnly, eyes soft behind their glasses. “You’re not just the Commander’s Guard, Levi – you know you were more than that to _him_. Mike, Nanaba, Moblit – we can all see that.”

A knot takes form in Levi’s chest, making it hard to breathe. Memories, crystal clear and tantalizing, swim before his eyes – the ghost of lips on his forehead, the warm sensation of a hand gently pressed against his bare back, the rich musky scent of Erwin left in his sheets, the unspoken promise to never make any promises.

No words of farewell or gratitude or comfort, nothing left for him to hold onto but the short-lived image of Erwin on his screen. Up until the end, the man remained constant – no promise of returning, no vow to remain by his side.

Nothing either of them permits themselves to speak _aloud_.

Once you say something, it becomes real, and you give it power to take hold of you.

They can’t afford that, not in this life.

What words Erwin was ready to spill in the face of impending doom – unless they get him back, only _he_ will know.

 

 

It’s a few more hours before they spot something floating in the distance – an escape pod, direct from Erwin’s Freedom Wing.

Inside the hangar, everyone waits in anticipation when the pod opens. For the first time in a while, something deep and resounding unfurls in Levi’s chest – _fear_.

Then, disappointment.

Inside isn’t the man that they’ve all been waiting for, but an ominous message – a severed human arm. Engraved on its bloody skin are coordinates to a certain uncharted nebula in the Holos Galaxy.

And yet a tiny bud of hope blossoms – it’s all they need to know that Erwin just might be _alive_.

It’s a trap, Hanji says. There’s reason to believe that the enemy knows they’ve kept the real Royal Heir aboard the Galahad, disguised as a soldier. They’re going to make a bargain, with a very big price. They need to come prepared.

For the first time, Levi makes a vow:

“I’m going to get him back.”


End file.
